^ — , ADDRESS 



E 642 

•B36 ^i^^ OF 

Copy 1 



THEO, W, BEAN, 

OF 

NORRlSTOWiN, PENN., 

DELIVERED AT 

SEVEN PINES NATIONAL CEMETERY, 

ON 
Memorial Day, May 30th, 1888. 

UNDER THE AUSPICES OP 

PHIL KEARNY POST, NO. 10. G. A, R. 
OF RICHMOND, VA. 



RICHMOND, VA: 

PAThICK KKENAN' PRINTER. 
18S8. 



ADDRESS 



OF 



THEO, W, BEAN 



OF 



NORRISTOWN, PENN., 



DELIVERED AT 



SEVEN PINES NATIONAL CEMETERY, 

ON 
Memorial Day May 30th, 1888. 

UNDER THE AUSPICES OF 

PHIL KEARNY POST, NO. 10, G. A. R. 
OF KICILVJOXD, VA. 






NoRRisTOWN, Pa., June 4, 1888. 

Comrade Edgar Allan, Past J. V. C. in Chief G. A. R. 
Chairman Memorial Committee, Phil Kearny Post, 
Richmond, Virginia : 

Complying with your request, I herewith tbrw^ard you 
the copy of my address delivered at Seven Fines Na- 
tional Cemetery on Wednesday last. It was prepared 
with no idea of a life beyond the day it was spoken, 
amid the graves of the Nation's dead. If, however, it 
will aid your little struggling band of veteran-soldier- 
patriots in their laudable efforts to establish a perma- 
nent Memorial Fund, and from its income to keep alive 
the memories of the thousands of our comrades, the 
guardians of whose graves you are, then, indeed, are 
you welcome to nse it as you will. 

If our comrades North could form a conception of 
the w^ork your Post has done and is doing, you would 
never again have to ask aid in accomplishing your 
holy work ; and could the various corps of our noble 
anxilliary — the Woman's Relief Corps — but have wit- 
nessed what greeted my eyes and gladdened my heart, 
as their work, they* would have hailed it as the 
grandest achievement of their history as an organiza- 
tion. All honor to our noble women, to whom I would 
dedicate the words I spoke amid the flowers they 
furnished. 

Sincerely yours in V. C. and L., 

TIIEO. W. BEAN. 



[ 61505 

'05 



i 



ADDRESS. 

< Comrades and Cidzevs : 

^ • • 

^ Pilgrims to holy hinds and sacred shrines have paid 

deserved homage to manly heroism, in all ages of the 
world. Tombs and epitaphs weary mortals ever crave 
at the end of life's journey. Memory is inmiortah 
The grave ot lost hope has never been found ; the soul 
protests against the idea of its annihiliation. Roman, 
Greek, Hebrew, Chaldean and Egyptian invested their 
noble dead with honored sepulchre ; love, gratitude 
and wealth invoked the master hand of Art, to immor- 
talize their niemory in ornate bronze, marble shaft and 
mausoleum. These races have all left monumental 
proofs and prophesies of man's sense of eternal life. 

These mortuary sentinels on the historic shores of 
time, preserve the name of families, the fame of heroes, 
and the achievements of races. Mother England glo- 
nties her dead witliin tlie classic walls of Westminster 
Abbey, and grants an "initial letter" over the obscure 
graves of her felon dead of Newgate. America would 
be false to precedent, race and fatherhood, did we fail 
to add our rounds in the ladder of immortality, which 
the angels of our better nature have been building:, 
ever since the ancient patriarch saw a stairway between 
heaven and earth. The Grand Army of the Republic 
will pass out of existence with the death of the last 
Union soldier of the war. It has added its round to the 
mystic ladder, by canonizing its dead in the services of 
Memoral Day, 

In 1861 Americanized Anglo-Saxon of the North 
met Americanized Anglo-Saxon of the ^South ; the 
shock of battle was felt from Seven Pines to Pea Ridge ; 
thousands and tens of thousands fell where they fought • 
the passionate hate of the iiour was consumed by the 
fire and charge of the conilict, and where shot and shell 
hissed in horrid wrath, where infuriated armies were 
engaged in deadly strife — on these same fields surviv- 
ing foemen now meet, and in peaceful friendship honor 
the 1,400 graves at Seven Pines, and send kindly 



greeting to their fellow countrymen, who this day pay 
fraternal tribute to the 32,500 Union graves in Virginia 
— Virginia in the Union — Virginia loyal to the one 
flag that floats in triumph over a continental republic. 

There is a legend of an ancient Roman Forum, within 
which a chasm opened, wide and deep. A supersti- 
tious people imagined it to be the work of an angry 
god, whose "ivrath could only be appeased by sacriflcial 
oflerings. Into its yawning depths they poured their 
emblements of liusbandry, commercial wealth and 
political power ; the banker cast in his glittering 
^old, the sorcerer his magic wand, the warrior 
his armor of steel, the sculptor his graver, the 
musician her harp, beauty its adornments, the high- 
wayman his spoil, idolatry its brazen gods ; but the 
insatiable maw wddened and deepened, the pagan city 
and its inhabitants seemed upon the brink ot annihil- 
ation. * 

Then came a noble Roman youth, the patrician 
knight Quintus Curtius, saying, "What is it that Rome 
holds most precious ? Is it not her manhood ?" and 
plunged into the gap, which closed, and closed for- 
ever. 

In 1861, twenty-seven years ago, a political chasm 
opened across the continent, as wide and deep, as per- 
ilous and insatiable, as that of legendary Rome. 
Into it we cast the priceless oflerings of peace, a fugi- 
tive slave law — aDred Scott decision — ^personal liberty 
bills, the literature of an impending and irrepressible 
conflict — an Uncle Tom's Cabin — and the body of old 
John Brown. And still the chasm widened and deep- 
ened ; statesmanship cast in its pride of opinion — ag- 
gressive reform stood transfixed in mute awe upon its 
brink — an enlightened humanit}' shrank from the ap- 
palling danger, religious thought, measurably subsidized 
by the curse of human slavery, gave to its remorseless 
maw its sacred creeds — and universal love sought to 
throw the veil of fellowship across the dark abyss ; all, 
iill in vain. The Manhood of the Republic alone could 
fill, and bridge the dreadful chasm. Citizanship, 
grounded in the traditional and historical love and 
unity of country, was the last and accepted sacrifice. 

Promptly and nobly the citizen came to the country's 
.rescue, sacrificing home and loved ones, exchanging 



ease for toil, plenty for poverty, peace for peril, life 
for death. 

As an example of man's love of liberty, and the unity 
of his country, the rise and rush of men to arms in 1861 
is without a parallel in the history af mankind ; that 
liberty, despite and above all the intrigues and political 
sins committed in its name, man still loves ; it is what 
gives point and value to his life; in iis exercise he is 
the embodiment of enterprise and noble purpose ; he is 
civilizer, Christian, hero, statesman and poet, and vo- 
calizes a continent with the hum of his industries. For 
this blessed boon he battles with and overcomes the 
adverse elements of nature, surmounts difficulties, and 
dares death in a hundred forms. It is his social bloody 
his political marrow, the signet of his sovereignty. 

The great fatherhood of our country, Avho left their 
imprint in blood and sacrificial suffering on the banks 
of the James and York Rivers, Plymouth Rock, the- 
Hudson, -and the Delaware, also left a progeny North 
and South, wdiose loyalty to leaders, whose bravery in 
battle, whose industry and indurance, demonstrates the 
glory of our enheritance, and in the grand battles 
fought between ourselves, however unfortunate in some 
respects, reveals a manhood of the Kepublic, as now 
reunited, capable and willing to protect and defend the 
Union against the political powers of the earth. Peace,. 
Independence and the Repul)lic were the fruits of the 
Revolution. The period liad its embittering environ- 
ments. Families were divided, alienations and sund- 
ered affections generated political hatred; the words 
"Tory" and "Rebel" w^ere expressive terms for fifty 
years after the great struggle, and only finally lapsed 
in the century that closed in centennials of universal 
peace, national splendor, and good will. As we emu- 
lated their personal valor in war, as seen at Rutdvcr 
Hill, Saratoga, Valley Forge, and Yorktown, in our 
battles from Bull Run to Gettysburg, and from Bel- 
mont to Appomattox, so let us follow their illustrious 
example in peace. A long and bloody civil war, 
closed with honorable terms of surrender, followed by 
measures of amity, the restoration of confidence and 
the love of Union. To-dn}^ the gims of Farragut are 
silent, the horsemen of Sheridan are at rest, the sw^ord 
of Grant is sheathed ; and the spirit of the martyred 



6 

Liucoln rests in celestial joj. The past is gone irre- 
vocably, only its history remains ; the present is but a 
fleeting breath ; the future only is limitless, eternal. 
As in the old world theoracy gave us but one Moses, 
monarcy but one Solomon, art but one Kaphael, the 
Reformation but one Luther, war but one Napolean, 
the new world gave us but one Revolution, but one 
Washington to achieve its success, but one flag to sym- 
bolize its power, but one Union of a common hrother- 
hood, united in one faith, in one God, Hope bright- 
ens the future of the reunited Republic. Patriotism 
will preserve its liberties for all. Industry will garner 
its harvests. Brain and muscle will win its victories, 
and fidelity to truth, honor and virtue will preserve 
them. 

An intelligent retrospect of the providences of life as 
seen in the agencies of God, is sometimes prophetically 
suggestive ; and as the darkening clouds of war rise 
higher and higher, until rifted and broken by the 
mountain ranges, and the sunlight of peace beams over 
the fruitful landscape of a continent ; we can see the 
hastening processes of the hand of time as it fashions 
human destiny. 

In the history of America, every century has been an 
age of continental evolution. The Sixteenth century 
gave the New World to the explorers ; the Seventeenth 
fringed the Western Shores of the Atlantic with An- 
glo-Saxon blood, and gave the world freedom of re- 
ligious conscience ; the Eighteenth wrested the conti- 
nent from the control of native heathens, and secured 
the right of eminent domain from the despots of 
Europe ; The Nineteenth marshalled the energies of 
the new nation, and in the agonies of war dedicated 
them to universal freedom. 

In the year of our Lord 1700 the race numbered less 
than six million souls. In 1800 the race, the English 
speaking people, had increased to 20,000,000, and to-day 
they number over one hundred millions. 

The expansion of this race is as astounding as its mul- 
tiplication. In one centurj- the United States has in- 
creased its territory tenfold, while the acquisition of 
colonial territory by Great Britain within ;he same pe- 
riod is unprecedented in history. This mighty Anglo- 
Saxon race, loving liberty and dominion, inspired by 



the liberated forces of an enlightened religious con- 
science, ttiough but one-fifteenth part of mankind in 
numbers, now Isolds dominion over more than one- 
third of the earth's surface, and governs more than one- 
fourth of its people. 

This race is riding the highest wave of Christian civili- 
zation in its grand sweep across a continent. This race 
has settled, and settled forever, conflicting opinions that 
will hasten tiie culmination of God's Providences, and 
make it a unit in aggressive evangelization through- 
out the world. 

It has been said, "Every race which has deeply im- 
pressed itself on the human family, has been the repre- 
sentative of some grand idea, which has given direc- 
tion to the nation's life, and form to its civilization." 

Among the Egyptians this seminal idea was lije, 
among the Persians it was UrjJd, among the Hebrews it 
was pwiti/, among the Greeks It was beauty, among the 
Romans it was law. The Anglo-Saxon, in his progres- 
sive career, has imprinted upon the page of of history 
two grand ideas — Liberty and Do)ninion. 

And as its heroic generations pass into the twilight 
of the grave amidst the fragrance of flowers and aftec- 
tion's ott'erings, in these last days of the Nineteenth cen- 
tury, we can almost see the gray dawn of the Twen- 
tieth, and with it the emerging era of commercial splen- 
dor that precedes the golden age, and then will prophet 
see and the living millions feel the impulse of wealth in 
art, science, and literature, then will the arm of the 
American sculptor chisel in classic forms her heroes, 
then will American artists paint her battles for free- 
dom, American poets chant songs of worthy fame, and 
American historians crown all with the record of truth. 
The propulsive forces of a hundred years of peace 
were unloosed by the higher demands of tne'race in the 
field of war. The tremendous issue called to the front 
the noblest manhood of the generation, and when the 
sun set upon Appomattox and national peace, April 9, 
1865, it rose in morning splendor on the 10th, upon the 
united energies of the greatest nation of men upon the 
face of tiie earth. 

Spears we had not to beat into plowshares, and the 
swords we carried were kept as mementoes of the 
deathless valor of those who fell, and the honored re- 
cord of those who survived. 



8 

We did better than our ancient Fathers advised; we 
turned warlike leaders into peaceful laymen, and vet- 
eran soldiers into industrious citizens. Our chieftains 
became Presidents of the country, and the country's 
colleges and railroads. The poor privates in war, Ije- 
came the prince of wealth in peace. The country that 
incurred a debt at the rate of $3,000,000 a day for two 
successive years, has now a tantalizing surplus of hun- 
dreds of millions of silver and gold. So great is 
this sulplus, that it excites tlie grave apprehensions of 
the President of the Republic, and the distinguished 
constitutional advisers who surround him. 

This phenomenal condition of the countr}^ is not 
without profound interest to the old soldier. Union and 
Confederate, In 1860 the estimated wealth of the 
country was $16,160,000,000 ; in 1880 it had increased 
170 per cent., or $27,257,000,000— $10,000,000,000 
more than the entire wealth of the Russian Empire, or 
$267,000,000 more than the estimated Avealth of Great 
Britain, therefore the richest nation of the earth. Dur- 
ing four years of these two decades, over one million of 
producers w^ere destroyed by war,and not only two of 
the largest armies of modern times were withdrawn 
from productive occupations, but all their marvelous 
energies and ingenuity were conscientiously devoted to 
the work of destruction ; to this inventory of loss must 
be added the value of property in slaves in 1860; viz, 
$1,250,000,000, all of which disappeared Ironi the as- 
sets of the nation. 

A great statician sums up our increase in wealth for 
the twenty years between 1860 and 1880 at the rate of 
$260,000 for every hour, excluding Sundays, or $6,257,- 
000 for every week day during the same period. From 
this pride of wealth, we turn to a National domain so 
great, that "comparison fails to give us a just concep- 
tion of it. For ever}' acre of land east of the Missis- 
sippi River we have two and a half acres west of that 
stream, excluding Alaska. We have twenty-six States 
east of that river, we can create sixty-tive additional 
Commonwealths of equal area Avest of it, giving us a 
Union of ninety-one States. And if we w\ant more 
room for future use, our children (I mean the sons of 
veterans. Union and (confederate) nuiy add Mexico to 
California, and Canada to Alaska, 



• 9 

It is said, and witli truth, that Texas could have pro- 
duced all the food crops for 50,000,000 people on her 
164,215 square miles of laud in 1879. Coukl have raised 
the world's supply of cotton, 12.000,000 jhales, at one 
bale per acre and still had left a cattle ranch larger 
than the two Virginias. 

It is a source of pleasure to know that the youngest 
of Nations is a liepuhlic, and the richest, "and that the 
richest of all nations has as yet oidy begun to develop 
its resources." 

Less than one-eighth of our arable land is now un- 
der cultivation. A less proportion of our Mineral 
wealth is developed, and the only limit of our manu- 
facturing possibilities in the world's need. Gladstone 
says we have "a natural base for the greatest continu- 
ous Empire ever established by man." Matthew Ar- 
nold says, "America holds the future." And one of 
our New^ England freshmen astonished his asthetic 
classmen by saying he "never felt as if he were out of 
doors, until he stepped off the cars west of the Missouri 
and rode with the 'cow-boys in a round up.'" In re- 
membrance of our common Fatherhood, in the enjoy- 
ment of a citizenship that commands the respect of 
every government of the world, in view of a past that 
signalizes a National Supremacy, in view of a future 
that promises a liepublic, in i)eace and in war, war ag- 
gressive or defensive, we are admonislied by consider- 
ations of self interest and public polic}', to forget the 
old animosities that dissolved in blood aud anguish, and 
cultivate those new alliances that generate good fellow- 
ship, the splendor of Conmiercial enterprise, and the 
practical fruits of manufacturing advantage. If the 
war of 1861 to '65 established one fact over and above 
all others, it was the geography of the United States, 
No school boy can misapprehend this fact ; if there be 
one thing above all others, for which the citizens of the 
United States are pre-eminentl_y distinguished, it is 
their love of country ; no student of our history, how-- 
ever dull, can misconceive this truth. Consescrated to 
the generation in whieh we live beyond all others by 
the trials and triumphs of war, and the accomplishments 
of peace, Ave are bound together by these ties of race 
and of kindred, by mountain ranges, chains of lakes and 
flowing rivers, by belts of mineral wealth, by electric 



10 

•wires and tracks of steel, and by an inborn love of per- 
sonal, civil and religious liberty. 

The natural outcome of these conditions should be, 
and we believe will be, the restoration of natural con- 
fidence, a broader spirit of tolerance than heretofore 
experienced, and the united efforts of all, for the 
good of all, bigh or low, rich or poor, free and f reed- 
men. 

An incident occurred within a cannon shot of the 
c;ity of Richmond on the afternoon of June 11, 1864, 
which painfully illustrates the strong ties that existed 
among the best men in the opposing armies during the 
flood tide of the war. An engagement was in pro- 
gress on the Brook Pike, known in history as the Yel- 
low Tavern. It was a cavalry engagement, one of the 
many sanguinary conflicts between the cavalry corps of 
the A. of P., and the cavalry corps of the Army of 
JSTorthern Virginia. Eighteen thousand horsemen were 
present in this conflict; the country was open, and lines 
■of battle were visible from right to left of the contend- 
ing troops. It was the first flght between Sheridan 
and Stuart. Sheridan had cut loose from Grant on the 
Rappahannock, passed Beaver Dam Station on the 
Virginia Central Railroad. Marching between scorch- 
ing suns, he reached the head of Brook Pike to find 
the ever aleit Stuart athwart his path to Richmond. A 
battery commanded the highvva}', flanked by carbin- 
eers who successfully resisted the advance, while Hamp- 
ton was thundering up our rear, stubbornly resisted by 
■General Gregg. The situation was deemed critical for 
the hour l)y officers of the Union line. 

General Custer was in reserve with his Michigan 
brigade, 1,800 mounted men. I was riding with Gen. 
Merritt, who was watching with solicitude the fatal 
eflorts of the shot and shell of the battery upon our 
lead horses, when General Cusrer rode up, saying, 
"General Merritt, lam going to charge that battery." 
The necessary support was promptly tendered by the 
Division Commander, and in less than ten minutes the 
Michigan brigade was on the move, every moment in- 
creasing its velocity, eighteen hundred fearless riders, 
eighteen hundred gleaming blades drew from double 
shotted guns their liissing wrath, but all in vain. The 
iTUsh of horse was irresistable, under the lead of the 



11 

irapetous commander and his veteran followers. The 
battery was literally rode down, the line of support 
was broken, and in a gallant eftbrt to save a retiring 
gun. General Stuart was exposed to the conniion dan- 
mon danger of the contact and melee resulting from 
the charge, and fell mortally wounded ; liis body and 
the coveted gun were hastened from the field by his 
■ surviving companions. 

During the movement General Sheridan appeared 
upon the scene, and when the last of the brigade had 
passed the crest of the iiill, and the captured and dis- 
abled guns and caissons could be seen tlirough the ris- 
ing dust and smoke of the charge, he expressed hi-s sat- 
isfaction, and directed a message of congratulation to 
be sent to General Custer, complimenting him upon 
his success. 

It was my duty to carry this message, and upon its 
delivery, I received from General Custer the news of 
the fall of Stuart. I shall never forget the sad face of 
the heroic and generous Custer. Naturally elated by 
his successful charge, and the congratulations of his 
commander on the field of honor, he seemed to forget 
his own joy, and thought only of the mortal anguish 
suffered by his brave and manlj' foeman, and the sor- 
row it would bring to a loving and devoted household. 
Nor was this all. When the news of the Confederate 
leader's fall was iM'ought to the Union line, a feeling of 
profound regret was manifest on the part of many offi.- 
cers who knew him and served with him prior to the 
war. This feeling was shared by many volunteer offi- 
cers and men, who in their three years experience in 
campaigning against the operations directed by this of- 
ficer, had learned to respect him as the highest type of 
manhood personating the i»ublic enemy in time of 
war. 

All that is here said of Stuart, may be eaid with 
equal truth of the fall of General liodes within the 
Union lines at the battle of Winchester a few months' 
later. Every day of contact brought its evidence of 
lingering fraternal feelings. Kosser's return to Custer 
■of his colored cook, Eliza, a few hours after her capture 
at Trevillian, was duly acknowledged by the latter as 
an act of gallantry. And all will remember how the 
■boys in blue and gray, in defiance of the most string- 



12 

ent orders, exchanged newspapers, coffee and tobacco 
across the "bloody chasm" from the Potomac to the 
Mississippi. 

One more incident is in point. Serg't Harry G. 
Hunter, of Co. L., 17th Pa. cavahy, now Principal of 
the High Scliool of Birdsboro, Penna., wa'sin command 
of a squad of cavahy, twelve in number, in the late 
winter of 1863, and was patroHing the old Telegraph 
road from Acquia Church to Dumfries; on his return 
through a dense fog, emerging from a piece of wood- 
land to open field, beyond which was timberland, dis- 
tant some 300 yards ; midway between the line of wood 
just about daylight the befogged Union patrol discov- 
ered the advance of a similar squad or patrol. The 
meeting was a mutual surprise ; both squads were 
marching in sections of four ; both commanders gave 
:^he command, "By twos, march" ; each yielding half 
of the road and passed ; each discovering as they 
passed that they were "Union and Confederate," yet 
neither drew a sword nor fired a shot. It is, however, 
due to the sagacity of Serg't Hunter to say that he 
failed to mention this circumstance in his morning re- 
port; and not until the war was over did the remark- 
able episode come to the knowledge of his commanding 
officer. 

These incidents illustrate the strong ties of friend- 
ship that existed between the rank and file of the 
North and South, during the sharp friction of war. 
And when the sound of the last gun was lost to mortal 
sense in its receeding echo among the hills of Appo- 
mattox, when guns were stacked and tents were pitched 
for the last time, long before the setting sun on that 
eventful day, there was a union of the blue and gray. 
This was the beginning of the era of peace. Good-will 
among the men of arms, North and South, has been a 
prevailing characteristic ever since. And now all who 
survive of the Army of the Potomac, andof the Army of 
Northern Virginia, are invited guests — to a reunion at 
Gettysburg, July 1st to 4th, being the 25th anniversary 
of the war. No impending event in the immediate 
future presages more important sccjuences to the citi- 
zenship of tiie Republic than the reunion in peace of 
their two great representative armies of the North and 
South. 



.13 

Could the dead heroes, among whose honored graves j 
we stand to-day, speak — could we hear the voice of the 
great silent majority, who have been mustered into the 
heavenly army, their command would be more impera- 
tive, it" possible, than the commands of Meade and Lee 
in hastening the concentration of their great armies 
upon that historic field in 18G3. 

Standing among and addressing you, my comrades, 
the past rises before us like a dream. Again comes the 
iuirrying of impatient feet. Again is heard the ])agle 
blast to arms and to horse. Again the national Hag 
unfurls, Hashing its star-tire in the morning sun. Again 
the column of blue emerges from towns and cities, 
crowded with excited and admiring people. The plow- 
boy leaves his unturned furrow. The mason quits his 
unfinished wall. The merchant closes liis unbahmced. 
ledger. The student turns from the class-room. The 
anvil rino; is no loni>:er heard under the village elm. 
Wealth has deserted its cushions of ease. Poverty has 
gone from its home of pinching want. Idleness has 
forsaken its leisure. Dissipation thrown aside its cup. 
Love yields its idols of home. A common impulse 
welds all hearts. A common cause levels all ranks. 
Frost of age and bloom of youth march side by side. 
Farewells are waved from curtained window and cot- 
tage door. Unuttered blessings tremble on blanched 
lips, as brave men break from womanly arms. Moth- 
ers, wives and sweethearts look through tearful eyes 
until dear ones are out of siglit. Then comes the mem- 
ory of noted fields, the shock of battle, whistling bul- 
let, bursting shell, terrific charges, the impulse of vic- 
tory, or the sympathy of defeat, the ghastly plain, the 
silent burial of the honored dead, the days of watching, 
and sleepless nights, the tattered standards, armless 
sleeves, empty chairs, and the graves you honored->> 
to-day. . 1 

How fitting that once a year at least we should turn I 
from the conflicting interests and passions of daily life, \ 
and here renew the inspiration of their sublime ex- 
ample. No lip can speak as do their quiet graves. No 
eloquence can hush voices which sound with more than 
human accent. They bid us make "Memorial Day" 
worthy of them, not in idle speech, however matchless 
its phrase, or lofty its tone ; not in holiday parade, how- 



14 

ever solemn ; not in mere gift of flowers, however 
sweet with the breatli of Spring ; not in an hour about 
their hallowed tombs, though heads be bowed and faces- 
saddened. These beautiful tributes will fade away and 
mingle with the sod the}' cover, their beauty and their 
perfume lost to sight and sense forever. The words 
we speak will soon be gone in the air that gives them 
wings. This day itself will soon melt into the shadows 
of night, its record made, its covered pages clasped, its 
story told. 

j As we turn from these scenes we go to renew the 
great battle of life. Our country is grand in its pro- 
portions, great in its resources, interesting in its tradi- 
tions, history and associations, rich in material wealth ; 
ships are ever loading at our wharfs, wheels and looms 
are humming with endless industrj^ harvest burdens 
her fields, arteries of precious ore run through her 
mountains, her progress in Art, Literature, and Science 
is assured. What she most needs to-day, what she 
will always require, is noble, manly, and womanly 
character. This best heritage will out-last all others 
and survive alike the ruin of iield and sucking of city. 
What a centre of civilization was Athens two thousand 
years ago ? What pride was there of capital ? What 
glory of fashion ? What elequence in the forum ? 
What traffic in the market-place ? AVhat toil in field 
and forest and mine? Now all is silence; merchant 
princes are forgotten; wealth, trade and the votaries of 
fashion have all departed. But through the ages, above 
the lost city and deserted plain, comes the voice of" 
this once noble thinker, Socrates, whose life is the 
glory of Athens to-day. So it may be with us, if we 
possess and preserve the integrity of our own souls. 
We may not, probably will not, flood the world w'ith 
the light of lofty thought, or wondrous deed, or be 
imaged on templed bill in brass or stone; it matters not. 
We can all do much in our several spheres to help on 
the race in its pilgrimage after the highest and best of 
human attainments. 

"In soldiers' burial lots, 
On tablets of iron and of stone. 
Flower and flag point to the word "unknown." 

No loved one brings tear-moistened wreath to deck 



15 

his unshorn grave, or hrush away ihe dead leaves- 
gathered there by Autumn winds. The wild flower- 
which nods above him, and your annual and fraternal 
oiterings are all the tribute his resting-place may ever- 
know\ But he fought just as bravely, died just as 
nobly as others, and when the last great trump shall 
sound the immortal reveille, his manhood will not be 
''unknown" then and there. So with us in the provii_^ 
dence of life. We may stand in the trench, unseen of I 
men ; if we there remain, bravely doing the duty that \ 
comes to us, we will be esteemed as faithful as if in the 
battle on the towering summit of fortress wall. As our 
dead brothers were loyal to duty, as they were brave in 
the hour ot danger, as they died loving country and 
honor before all, so let us live, that the country may be 
worthy of their sacrifice. There are duties and tasks in 
our common walks which call for heroic faithfulness. 
There are dangers to be braved and temptations to be 
resisted. There are low aims to be renounced and high 
purposes to be accomplished. There are kind words to 
be spoken and holy deeds to be wrought. There are- 
tearful eyes to dry, bowed heads to raise, weak arms to 
strengthen, idle hands to assist, hungry mouths to feed ; 
blessings, indeed, to be scattered on every hand. To 
the land these dead heroes ransomed, to the age they 
glorified we can leave no legacy like a noble manhood. 
It is rich beyond all possessions and outranks all titles. 
Above and beyond all the accidents of life, the glitter 
of fame, the mockery of show, the pride of wealth, the 
heritage of a name, it stands in perpetual historical re- 
lief, and unites with links of gold, the pride of ances-- 
try, with the love of the country. -^ 

I. 

Comrades, sons of noble sires, 

Late from camp and battle's lurid fires. 

In peace and lienor we meet or.ce more, 
While on the march for the shining shore. 

ir. 

Old gra3^-headed men now meet to tell 

Of battles lost and won, of friends who fell, 

Of gallant comrades who bravely fought, 

Of comrades dead, who died while they wrought.. 



16 

III. 

On every field by veteran trod, 

Upon ever}^ field of crimson sod, 
The hand thai held the chastening rod, 

Was the hand of an over-ruling God. 

IV. 
Southern Summer's suns melt Winter's snow. 

Northern streams through Southern valleys flow. 
Vernal flowers along their siiores now grow. 

As they did in peace, long years ago. 

V. 

Boys learn war, as fathers did before. 
Together, on the classic Hudson's shore. 

Truer friend to country ne'er could be, 

Thau sons of those who fought with Grant and Lee. 

VI. 

Maidenhood still loves tlie brave and true, 
Whether sons of the Gray or of the Blue, 

And the new Union's blood is seen 
In loyal children on the village green. 

VII. 

Battle-fields that shook beneath the tread 

Of hosts, are sepulchers of the dead : 
By known names, or nameless and unknown. 

Their deeds live in memory, bronze and stone, 

VIII. 

On these acres of mounds pilgrims will lay 

Fresh offerings of "Memorial Day," 
And the hand of Him, who "doth all things well," 

Will raise the known and unknown who fell. 

IX. 

Father of the living and the dead. 

From us banish hate, — and in its stead, 
So give us the right to see, 

"That we may hold. 
Those once our foes," 
In fraternal charity. 



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